


Ships, Stars, and Safety

by thebeautifulbadass (2SAM2FURIOUS)



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4986880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2SAM2FURIOUS/pseuds/thebeautifulbadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short Lizzington oneshot. Post 3x02. My take on Liz’s thoughts and what probably (definitely) happened immediately after Red's adorable North Star declaration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ships, Stars, and Safety

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing except my feels.

_“That’s Polaris, the North Star. That’s how sailors used to find their way home. When I look at you, that’s what I see. I see my way home.”_

Liz could barely process his quiet admission. She instantly turned to look at him, needing to make sure it was really him that said it, needing to see his face. But he kept his eyes trained on the stars, avoiding her gaze. He leaned back, focusing even more intently on the sky, distancing himself from her and trying to hide from his own vulnerability.

She could hear his words echoing in her head, in that comforting, velvety rumble. Her mouth quirked up slightly and she shivered, the frigid wind across the open water piercing through the warmth from his words and his wine. Before she could talk herself out of it, she moved closer, circling her arm around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder.

He tensed ever so slightly, surprised at her touch, but quickly relaxed, wrapping his arm around her in return, pulling her closer. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. This gesture of physical closeness, of her trust, was more than enough for him.

His heart was racing in his chest, and he hoped she couldn’t feel it. After a moment, he kissed her temple softly, a few wind-blown wisps of her hair pressed between his lips and her skin.

She was cold, but his gentle lips sent warmth through every inch of her body, all the way to her boot-clad toes and the fingertips clutching her wine glass. She thought about how safe she felt in this moment. How it felt like this ship was forging forward through the wind and the waves, leaving her painful past and their tumultuous history behind them, carrying them away from the weight of everything that had happened in the past two days – hell, even the past two _years_ – maybe even carrying them toward a new, unfathomable future, one she’d never allowed herself to imagine before.

She thought about how, out on the open ocean with this man’s arm around her, she somehow felt free, even with the entire force of the Cabal and the FBI after them. She wished that this moment, this brief respite of peace and stillness in the chaos, didn’t have to end, that they could stay on this ship, stargazing, together, until the end of time.

She thought about what his words really meant, the importance and depth of them. It seemed like a big responsibility, being someone’s North Star. But then again, the North Star was _always_ the way home, no matter what. If she was his North Star, she could never lead him astray because no matter what she did or who she became, she would always be his way home, she would always be _right_. So it wasn’t a responsibility then – more like a privilege, one she’d accept wholeheartedly.

She thought that maybe, just maybe, he was becoming her home too.

Maybe he always had been.


End file.
